She turned bird again at dawn, taking flight in the morning chill before her grumpy, yawning triplets could even think to argue. She left them stumbling through the undergrowth, foraging for wild garlic and berries, kicking aside tangled obstacles and peering skeptically at every plant they saw.
She’d nabbed three spiders before she even left the ground. Now her striped wings whirred and her tiny firecrest body darted with ease between every leaf-heavy branch, drawn through the forest by a pull stronger than hunger.
The walls of the castle had sung to her veins all night. She wouldn’t get too close now; she would be good, she would follow Mother’s orders—but she had to see them for herself in bright daylight.
She had to know.
What if Mother and Connall had turned out the invaders but couldn’t call to the triplets from so far away? What if—?
A stick cracked sharply just ahead. Her body froze in midair, wings whirring as she hovered.
That sound hadn’t been made by a forest animal.
Neither was the curse that sounded after it.
“Quiet!” hissed a woman’s voice. It wasn’t Mother or Alys. It came from a knight without armor, creeping between the trees ahead with a quiver of arrows over her back. She carried a long, slender bow in one hand, and her tunic bore the image of a snarling wolf.
She belonged with the smooth-talking duke of Lune.
The man beside her wore a bear on his tunic, the angry duke of Arden’s symbol, and he growled at her like a bear himself. “I couldn’t help it. By my oath, that stick reached out and tripped me!”
“Remember what Their Graces told us,” she murmured. “This forest has belonged to the sorceress for years. We can’t trust anything we see or hear—and we can’t let anything hear us. Be a shadow, or we’ll never find them.”
“There are too many shadows here already for my liking.” His hand tightened around the vicious-looking spear that he carried … but at another look from his companion, he lowered it with an angry huff of air. “They’ll come running home soon enough on their own,” he muttered. “What kind of witch-child could survive in this forest?”
The woman shrugged, a sneer twisting at her lips. “Does it really matter? Your duke of Arden may declaim all he likes about family loyalty, but we both know our lords will run the kingdom for themselves while our new king or queen is a child—and none of these children will live long enough to take control. Like it or not, the duchess of Solenne and her allies will find some way to kill them off, sooner or later, in favor of her chosen heir. Then we’ll kill hers, and on and on it will go. But for now …”
Her teeth flashed in a predatory smile. “We need a royal body to stick onto that throne and keep our own masters in charge of Corvenne for as long as possible. So, let’s hunt down our next glorious king or queen and get them to the Hall of Investiture whether they like it or not!”
Oh, no, you don’t! Cordelia twisted in midair and shot back through the trees.
Giles and Rosalind had already wandered too far from the safety of the den—and they weren’t even trying to be quiet. She could hear them from yards away, stomping and spitting out experiments.
“Ugh! Leave that one for the—ow!” Rosalind jerked back as Cordelia zoomed toward her and began to tug on Rosalind’s short hair with her beak. “Stupid bird! I don’t want to steal your food, I—”
“Cordy?” Giles spun around, eyes sharp.
She couldn’t bear to shift. Humans were too slow! She danced with impatience in the air as she circled them, trying to herd them away.
“Something’s wrong,” Giles said.
Finally! They understood.
Rosalind grabbed for her sword-stick and planted her feet wide apart in defense position.
“Argh!” Cordelia let out a muffled shriek of frustration as she landed on two human feet in front of her stupid, stubborn sister. “Go, go, go! Don’t stay and fight!”
That bear-man was twice Rosalind’s height, at least. And that hard, focused look in the wolf-woman’s eyes …
“Where?” Giles looked around, eyes wide. “The den?”
“Too far!” They would never get there in time.
If only her triplets could shift bodies, too! She would have given anything to fly away with them now. Instead, she pointed desperately toward the east. “There’s a fallen oak that tumbled down in the last storm. Go hide under its leaves. Now.”
Rosalind’s eyes blazed. “I’m not afraid of any—”
“Protect Giles!” Cordelia hissed.
Giles’s jaw dropped open in outrage. “What?”
“You can write a song about it,” she promised. “Later.”
She couldn’t wait any longer. She dropped into wolf form and ran from her triplets, straight in the direction of the knights creeping toward them.
They were still out of sight, but they weren’t out of scent. In wolf form, she could smell the fear and aggravation that pulsed off them in waves—and the determination, too. A mere howl in the distance wouldn’t frighten these predators away.
The fur on her back rose. Her upper lip lifted in a snarl.
She was a predator now, too. They were coming for her pack.
The wolf knew exactly what to do.
Her world was made of infinite shades of gray and instinct like a guiding star. Her paws left no imprint on the ground as she sped unerringly through the trees toward her prey.
Closer, closer—
There.
Just ahead. Two humans, stopping to confer.
Her back legs sank down into a crouch. Her whole body prepared to spring.
They turned together.
She leaped.
She wasn’t aiming to attack. Her fierce bark was a warning any animal would recognize: Stay away! Even the fiercest bear or wild boar would take the hint and back away.
But the man lunged forward instead, his sharp spear arcing toward her neck …
And the tip of the woman’s arrow sliced through Cordelia’s side, sending her spinning and tumbling through the air.
It hurt so much! She barely heard the piercing howl of pain that erupted from her throat.
She landed hard on the ground. The man took a quick stride to follow her—
And Giles’s voice sang out from twenty feet away. “Hey! Over here! Aren’t you looking for us?”
What was he doing? Cordelia fought to pull herself upright. She had to stop the knights from finding him and Rosalind, no matter what it took …
But both of the knights were already running, following Giles’s voice through the trees as it rose, high and mocking. “Can’t you even hear me? Over here!”
Cordelia whimpered as she dragged herself to her feet. The rich scent of blood filled her nostrils. The knights had disappeared into the trees. Pain stretched jaggedly through her side as she stumbled heavily after them.
“Cordy, stop!” It was Rosalind who hissed just behind her and Rosalind’s hand that grasped the fur around her neck to halt her when Cordelia tried to keep on moving anyway …
But Giles caught up with them only a moment later. “It’s all right, Cordy! I’m here! I’m safe, and it worked. I did it!” He let out a laugh of shocked delight.
At the same moment, in the distance—much farther than before—his voice sang out again, turning high and plaintive. “Isn’t anyone there? We’re so helpless! We can’t protect ourselves! Won’t anybody come and save us?”
Cordelia shook her head hard, trying to fix it. None of her senses matched up anymore … and her brother sounded like a fool!
“Good news,” Rosalind told her gruffly. “Giles figured out how to control his magic all on his own.”
“… And it was my greatest performance yet,” Giles finished with deep satisfaction.